


Home

by indigowaterbears



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8832532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigowaterbears/pseuds/indigowaterbears
Summary: As the habit to spend the night with each other becomes a thing, after a hard day Amelia decides to take Owen to her house, despite her still on going issues with Meredith. A few thousands words of Owen and Amelia sharing her bed.





	1. Chapter 1

Amelia never planned to end up like this. especially not given the latest turn with her and Meredith. Amelia had actually considered moving out right then and there, but there was an unknown force keeping her rooted in that house. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't really have anywhere else to go, but Meredith – despite her current feelings – had in fact become her family. Meredith had officially become one of her sisters in the last few months. Her and Meredith fought all the time, it wasn't actual fighting, but rather mindless bickering that drove them both crazy and a few of those times, they drove each other crazy on purpose. That must have been what it was like to grow up with a sister, Meredith had none, but Amelia's sisters were a lot older than her and never really considered as such. Nevertheless, the problem at hand at the moment was anything but trivial and ordinary. It was something neither was willing to cut any slack to the other and they were forever stuck in this vicious cycle.

In this moment of crisis Amelia had turned to Owen, letting go for now of her fears and doubts regarding their relationship or friendship or what they should soon define but wouldn't, for support and understanding. In his own way Owen was trying to offer that, when Owen himself was battling with a lot at the same time. It was easy for her to find him waiting in the parking lot at night, in the last three days he'd actually waited for her twice and one of those times, he had waited for two hours for her to get out of surgery. Amelia would have normally felt pressured and scared at his overbearing presence, but after that infamous dinner party she needed him regardless. She didn't need a love declaration or a marriage proposal and luckily Owen knew that without the need for her to say so. What Amelia needed was for someone to be there for her whenever she turned, a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to who wasn't necessarily Meredith's friend first. Most nights Amelia settled for cuddles after dinner, whether it be on his couch in front of the tv, which neither was really paying attention to, acting more as a deterrent than anything else; or at the house, but only if Meredith wasn't in.

Ever since the dinner, Amelia had made sure to avoid Meredith at all costs. It didn't even matter who was right and wrong, it didn't matter if Meredith was actually speaking to her and wanting to talk it out. Amelia was having none of it, her stubborn and somewhat childish streak overruling common sense. Even so, Owen had never been over to the house nor had he spent the night, to both their disappointment. If on the one side Amelia spent a lot of time and energy in making sure she and Meredith didn't cross paths inside the house, Owen didn't feel at ease in spending the night. Even if that night would be spent talking or just spooning, fully clothed as just a tiny bit more than friends. It was complicated and it was frustrating and Owen wanted to shove them both into a room so that they could sort their crap out. Whenever he thought of it, it sounded better and better each passing time.

Tonight, though, for the first time since it happened, Amelia had broken down in his arms. They were still at the hospital and she was waiting for him to get off his shift, napping in an on call room. Owen didn't have the faintest idea what had happened, but when he found her she was in tears. In a way, he'd been expecting it, to be fair she was allowed to still be upset over it. Given the circumstances he was surprised it had taken her days to get to that point – it went all to his admiration of her and how much work she'd put into processing Derek's death, instead of just shoving everything under the rug. The only thing he could do was to hold her, try his best to comfort her and hope that was enough for now. Hope that was what she needed from him in that moment. Maybe it was just minutes, but Owen couldn't tell, the incessant rain falling outside and dark, clouded sky made it nearly impossible to notice any changes, made it impossible to know just how long they spent standing in that on call room in each other's arms.

When Amelia pulled away, shamelessly wiping her tears in his t-shirt, she looked up at him, huge, wet, blue eyes staring up right into his own and he didn't need her to say anything at all. He couldn't help but keep her gaze for a little longer than necessary, wondering what it was about those eyes that had the power to make him do anything – even when Bailey used this trick he'd usually fell for it. The hope was the little Ellis would inherit her mother's eyes or those kids would hold such a power over him it made him feel a little intimidated. Of course, his own kids might very well grow up to have the Shepherd blue eyes – but that sort of daydreaming was for another day. Right now he and Amelia were nowhere closer to have kids than they were over a year ago. A bitter voice in the back of his head slyly suggested they might never be there, there was a chance he and Amelia would never get to that point in their relationship. Amelia was standing, as close to him as laws of physics would allow, and it was enough. Last year just having her stand against him like this, looking down in he big beautiful eyes was a stepping stone, today it was the goal. They were both there and they were there for each other, neither really seemed to want more.

Owen smiled at her, cupping her cheek, stroking gently the back of her neck, pulling some strands of hair from the messy ponytail. The mere action of standing there, within each other's reach served as comfort and not just for Amelia. Owen wasn't going to push, he wasn't going to ask, he would never because she never did. That's why it worked so well between them – he realized – it was this understanding that seemed to have always been there, which provided a sense of comfort and security that was so rare and precious in a relationship, and with their respective difficult past, it was a gift. In fact, Owen wasn't even sure what his feelings were, his relationship with Cristina had been filled with passion and physical attraction as well as love and affection. It appeared him and Amelia had skipped that stage entirely. Not that he didn't find her attractive, he'd be mad not to, but it wasn't her body that he noticed when he looked at her. He could see it right this moment, in her eyes staring up at him, it was trust – she trusted him not to hurt her, she was giving him free reign with the most vulnerable part of herself and some days he wondered if he really was worthy of that.

Before anything could be said his arm snaked around her, pressing her back against him, kissing the crown of her heard before pulling away nodding at the door. Amelia reached up to her cheeks, making sure there weren't anymore tears, wiping underneath her eyes any trace of smudged make up. The carelessness and calm with which she just did it, like she'd cried in front of him a million times before, was testament of the depth of their bond. It wasn't even a relationship – or maybe it was – and they had already reached the almost ultimate level of comfort around each other. Amelia stepped away from him and he let her, brushing her hand all the way along his arm until she was too far away to touch him. With a last look up to him she opened the door of the on call room and walked out, never turning once, sure he was following her closely. They walked all the way to the entrance doors, at times walking side by side, at others almost as if they were going in the same direction by chance. It wasn't about keeping it a secret, compared to everything that was going on, it didn't even matter anymore – whatever it was, it wasn't a quick hook up in an on call room to be kept under wraps from the judgy nurses.

The walk to the parking lot was silent, this morning they had driven in in her car and the mutual accord had been that they would take her car on the way back as well, wherever that may be. She'd spent almost every night at his place and he'd let her, no questions asked. They'd drive over together or she'd get there after work, they would eat or watch a movie that Amelia would pointedly fall asleep to and he'd take her to bed, slipping in on the other side, holding her throughout the night. It was comfortable and nice and Owen wasn't even sure he could push her much further at the moment. The bunch of seconds they had spent on her bed during the dinner had meant the world to him, had calmed his fears and probably hers too. He'd wanted to kiss her and hold her and never let go, but sadly their world wasn't perfect and – it seemed – Amelia's was far, far from it. Not that he'd ever thought she was being overdramatic in complaining about her life and her tragedies, but until a few nights ago he had not truly been able to understand her pain. His world had gone on, the world of most people around that table had kept spinning, but Amelia's was still being rocked by the void left by Derek and Owen was only now aware of how much pain she was still in.

Slipping in the passenger seat felt a little foreign, he was used to drive – even her car – whenever they were together and he'd been too wrapped up in thought to realize it, until she was already inside the car waiting for him. In the effort of not overthinking he got in quickly and spared a moment to look her way. Amelia was looking down at the steering wheel, maybe trying to avoid him, maybe thinking about something else entirely, Owen extended his hand and rubbed her shoulder firmly, taking satisfaction in how her whole body seemed to relax at the contact. Amelia leaned into his touch, eyes closing and breaths coming in uneven puffs of warm air, little clouds illuminated by the streetlights filtering through the car windows. Owen just rubbed with his thumb the sharp bone in her shoulder, feeling the muscles around tense a little. He knew the feeling, though, that was a different kind of tense. The good kind.

"Do you need a minute?" he asked, realizing she was gripping the steering wheel so tight, she was cutting circulation in her hands. He was okay with taking over with driving or going back inside the hospital to sleep in an on call room or driving her home and taking a cab afterward – he knew Meredith was going to be home later tonight.

Amelia took a deep breath, he could see her chest expanding despite her heavy sweater and jacket. She didn't move, but opened her eyes, looking straight into his from underneath her brow. Instinctively, his hand moved up – out of its own volition, because Owen realized it moved only when he saw it on her cheek, gently stroking under her cheekbone. "It's fine. Let's go."

As if nothing had happened, she turned back to the wheel, turned the key in the ignition and started the car. He believed her, there was something in the way she'd looked at him that confused Owen. It was different, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and he had no idea if it was good or bad. He had no idea what was going on inside her head on a good day, today was definitely not the day to even try to figure it out. She drove in silence and Owen was too focused on subtly observing her that he didn't see where they were going. They had not discussed it and, just like in the past few days, the unspoken mutual agreement had been that they would spend the night together. Before leaving they he would patiently ask about Meredith's schedule, implicitly asking her to come over – he knew Meredith had maybe one night shift a month, and that had been just last week, which meant she was home every night and that meant Amelia wouldn't be. Also, that meant Amelia would be sleeping at his place, something he was definitely not sorry for.

When she pulled up to the house, her house, he was surprised. Amelia just stopped the car, parked it in the driveway and waited. It was right then that he felt dread suddenly spread through all of him. This could only mean she wanted to be alone tonight and so he would have to be too. Owen turned to Amelia, wanting a sign – any sign – of what she was thinking, but all he got was her staring at her hands in her lap. Owen was okay with going home to sleep in his own bed, he was more than willing to allow her the space she needed, he knew it wasn't about him. Yet he needed confirmation. Sleeping in the same bed at night was as much for her sake and comfort as it was for his, it was definitely not unilateral and convenient. The feelings and the affection was there and it was mutual, which only meant he craved it as muh as she did and vice versa. After a couple of minutes of waiting in the car – something he would have done all night if it hadn't been so cold – Owen reached over to her lap and closed his hand on her smaller ones, wincing internally at the freezing temperatures of them.

"Amelia?"

She smiled, or rather, he saw her dimple peek out on her cheek and she twisted her hands so that she was holding his hand in both of hers. Amelia turned to look at him, leaning into her seat, letting her eyes linger on the soft features of his face. "Do you…" she looked away and he hated that. "Do you mind staying here?"

Owen had been waiting for her to finish that phrase, somehow, though, he felt like he was missing something. His eyes narrowed and the creases on his forehead grew deeper as he tried to understand what it was that she was asking him. "Here…" he repeated under his breath, not entirely able to associate it to what she had. "In the car?"

Amelia smiled. Owen thought, at least he got her to do that. She shook her head and gave him a look that he liked to believe mirrored the one he'd been giving her all night. Hell, the one he'd been giving her since he'd come back from Iraq, if not longer before. "No, not in the car." She tugged gently at his hands, mostly to make sure that he would look at her when she spoke next, but – Owen also noticed – she'd pulled them closer to her, as they now lay against her sweater. "In my room. I really want to sleep in my bed tonight."

As the rock dissolved from Owen's chest, he smiled at her, releasing some more of that tension. "You want me to stay with you? In your room?" he asked, a bit nervously, to make sure he'd got that one right.

"I-I meant… if you want. We don't have to… uh, we can just go to your place and-"

Owen turned his body to face her, his other hand – the one not already in her lap – fell to her thigh, wrapping around most of her leg. That got her to stop rambling and look up at him, finally. There was a lot in her eyes and he could recognize a few, confusion, anxiousness, exhaustion, but there was still that… shadow he couldn't quite make out. "Amelia." He called out to her, wanting her to relax, to know that she was fine there with him, that she didn't need to worry. "I thought you didn't want to be here."

Amelia looked down, her eyes fixated on the hand periodically squeezing her leg. It did provide some sort of comfort, but at the same time, it altered her thought process and she needed that. Owen's touch made her eyes roll back into her head and that was a feeling she was all too accustomed to. "I know, I, uh… wanted to feel at home." She said in what was a barely audible, feeble voice, averting his eyes all the while. It wasn't until it was out there that she realized how that sounded. It must have shown somehow because his hand tightened in her hold, pressing further against her body. "Stupid, right? This isn't even my house. I don't have a house, but it's…"

"Hey," Owen leaned forward in his seat, thankfully her car was big enough for him to do that, and the hand on her thigh moved to her lap, to wrap around their hands. "It is, your home. If it feels like home then it is." She looked at him in a way that, Owen was sure, he could have sat there all night staring into her eyes. He wanted to be her home. He wanted to be that place where she always felt save, because she deserved that. Because when she'd said the words he'd felt a stab in his chest, just before realizing this wasn't about him. "Should we get inside, then?"

The smile Amelia gave him was enough, he thought. It was enough that she could have never looked at him again and he would have been okay like that, she had a way of wearing her emotions and feelings – some times – that needed no words to be spoken at all. Silently they made their way inside, Owen followed behind her a few steps, he knew the layout of the house like that back of his hand – hell, he'd got married in that living room. Though, there was something in her step, it slowed at times and swiftly cut corners at others and he couldn't tell why. What was blatantly obvious, was how she was enjoying the quiet of the house with no sisters and no kids around, with the crazy hours they worked it was entirely possible this was the first time she got the house all to herself since she'd moved. He followed her around mindlessly, like a puppy, waiting for her to retrieve laundry and put the mugs from the coffee table in the sink. Owen was observing her in her element and it was fascinating. Creepy, sure, but it gave him precious insight on the real Amelia.

In fact, he knew very well she wasn't being all housewifey, cleaning and straightening around the house, but she was silently freaking out and for just a little bit he was letting her. Knowing that he had this effect on her did things to him, things that he hadn't felt in so long they almost felt foreign. The longer time passed, the more Amelia would fidget and, while Meredith would probably be glad for all the tidying she was doing, he didn't want to spent the night watching her load the dishwasher and fold baby clothes.

Owen walked up to her, standing about an inch away from her back while she rinsed Ellie's bottles for the fifth time. Amelia had obviously been too wrapped up into her activities to notice him standing right behind her. When his hands found their way to her hips she jumped a little, all of her muscles tensing in surprise and then relaxing under his touch. He could feel the uneasiness in her, something he'd never seen when they went to his place. His right hand travelled up her belly, pulling her backwards against him, rubbing her taut skin with his thumb. It took maybe a minute, maybe more, but at a point he felt her head lean back against his shoulder and – he didn't actually see, but Owen knew – her eyes closed. Owen had no idea where this was coming from and it certainly didn't help that Amelia was acting all kinds of weird tonight. As he felt her back press more and more into his chest, Owen relaxed and let his other hand reach and grab the bottle from her hands to put it back in the sink. She mumbled something he wasn't able to understand, he didn't have to, because a second later she turned into his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry." She smiled, feeling a little ashamed as she finally realized what she had been doing.

Owen chuckled, wrapping his arms entirely around her, pulling her to him as much as he could while still allowing the both of them to breathe. "You're freaking out."

"Am not." Argued Amelia feebly.

"Are too." Owen stated, bringing one of his hands to tangle up in her hair, gently stroking her head. He really couldn't help himself and in the end he understood all the hype about Derek's hair. After all Derek's hair was Amelia's hair, and he found he liked it. A lot. He liked Amelia's hair. "It's adorable and you don't have to worry about, uh… whatever it is that you're worrying about. It's fine – I'm fine with it."

Amelia turned up to look into his eyes, those eyes were one of the things that made her fall for him at first glance. The rugged, tough army guy exterior, which was admittedly intimidating at times, dissolved when he looked at her. His blue eyes were an almost exact mirror of her own and Amelia felt only comfort and security when gazing into them. "You are a little perfect."

"I definitely," he said rubbing his nose against hers. "am not." He looked into her eyes, fully aware of how watching the two of them right now could give anyone diabetes, but disregarding the thought, because feeling Amelia Shepherd in his arms, while looking in the ocean blue of her eyes was more important. He saw her lips stretch into a smile, he saw her dimples and he wanted to squeeze her so tight, because she wouldn't allow him to express his affection any other way. Instead, Owen leaned down, placing a kiss in between her eyes, which fluttered shut.

Goosebumps erupted all over her skin, as her whole body went numb. It was such a unique feeling Amelia wished it had a name – maybe it did, though. When Owen pulled away, this time, Amelia didn't stare into his eyes, trying to read his inner workings and imagine his hopes and dreams, this time Amelia let her hands drop around his waist, pulling away from his slightly. Before the disappointment and confusion in his eyes could grow any more noticeable she grabbed his hand and she tugged it to her. "Let's go to bed, okay?"


	2. Chapter 2

Owen was Owen and he was a man's man and Owen didn't need to be told that twice, even though it wasn't like that. Not now. Neither had even hinted at wanting to go there – yet – and neither had pushed. It was kisses and making out in elevators and cuddling in bed at night, but it never went any further than that – actually, ever since the dinner it never went any further than cuddling. Amelia was the one in need of reassurance and Owen wasn't about to press her for sex, not when the last time they did it, it ended so badly. Things were good now and both wanted things to stay good for as long as possible. Their nights, however were comfort filled and, in a way, were much, much better than sex. The first night after the dinner was unexpected and a little awkward, but they soon found their pace and boundaries, which were pushed further on with every night they spent together. It all started with the two of them sleeping in the same bed and four days later they were sleeping all wrapped around each other, holding on tight.

He followed her mutely, feeling the hint of excitement rushing through her veins as she guided him up to her room – not that he needed someone to show him the way, but he liked that she still held his hand until they were at the door. To Owen's dread and surprise Amelia stopped dead in her tracks on the threshold, it was so sudden his hands flew to her waist as he tried not to bump into her.

"Something wrong?" he asked humorously, digging his thumbs into the muscles of her lower back, feeling some of the tension back. "Amelia?"

"I-I… maybe this, I don't know… I didn't mean..."

One of Owen's hands made it up to her shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, hoping it would work. This never happened at his place, never ever. There were no stressors and no flashbacks and no freaking outs. Yet, the Amelia he got to observe in her natural habitat was definitely not the same Amelia that slept in his army t-shirt in his bed. "If you changed your mind, if you want me gone, if you want to be alone-"

"No!" she exclaimed turning around, disconnecting the human contact between their bodies. "No, that's not what I meant, it's just… Meredith is going to be back. Meredith, Maggie and the kids, at some point they will be back. I don't… it's not that I don't want to see her, but I'm not ready."

Owen nodded understandingly. Whatever happened today, whatever happened that had her cry in his arms in the on call room was bad enough, she didn't need anything more to add to it. There was a good chance nothing specific had happened, but the mere sight of Penny roaming around Grey Sloan had been enough to add to the already overflowing sea of emotions she'd been adeptly keeping in. Almost out of habit, his hand flew to her face, gently cupping her cheek. He didn't even want to think about it anymore, he just did it. "What if… what if we go to bed now, so that by the time they come home we're already asleep? That way you two won't cross paths, sounds good?"

Amelia seemed to think about it, this whole diatribe with Meredith genuinely bothered her and Owen took it as a sign that she cared or else it wouldn't matter to her if Meredith caught them naked on the living room couch. She nodded slightly, head tilting to the side, feeling a little lighter after thoroughly considering his suggestion. Without uttering another word she just walked into the room, reaching behind her pillows to pull out what should have been pyjamas, but was just one of his t-shirts and flannel pants. Amelia fished it out, tossing it in the middle of the bed, haphazardly throwing pillows on the little red chair by the bed, closely followed by the blue blanket, which served for decorative purposes, but would end up on the floor by morning if she left it on the bed. Once she was done, she looked up to find Owen still half frozen in the doorway, staring at her with a dazed look in his eyes. Amelia arched an eyebrow, slightly confused at his behaviour.

"There's clothes for you in that drawer." She said, nodding at the set of drawers under the jellyfish print. "I'm going to go change." She said walking out of the room with her clothes in hand, leaving him behind, just a tiny bit confused.

Owen walked in the direction of said drawer, taking his time in exploring her room for the first time. He slowly moved around, trying to commit to memory every single detail, realizing this was really her, Amelia, she'd decorated this room and he was fascinated at seeing such a new side of her. The two steps that took him in front of the jellyfish print were fast and stealthy and in no way prepared him for what he was about to find. On the surface there was a mess of things, books and candles and bottles, just like every other square inch of that room. What caught his eye, tough, were the three framed pictures in the midst of chaos. He could recognize Amelia, probably a few years before, with a blonde woman he didn't know – maybe someone from LA, someone he'd very much like to meet if she managed to get into one of the few picture frames in her room. The other two, however, he found particularly telling, one had to be a black and white picture of her father, a man looking almost exactly like Derek holding a baby, he assumed the baby to be her, but that was just that – an assumption. The other one he was almost certain what it was. Still relatively old, but in color, was the photograph of two kids, Derek and Amelia. Derek looked to be about sixteen, while Amelia couldn't have been older than three, she was sitting in his lap, completely engrossed in the book Derek was holding up in his hands, presumably the book he was reading to her.

Hearing the bathroom door open, Owen hurried, not wanting to get caught snooping – not that staring at photos was snooping, but he didn't want her to know he'd been looking anyway – and he reached into the drawer she'd indicated him a few moments earlier grabbing a t-shirt and pants. They were both his and they had been gone for over a year. Smiling like a fool to himself he took them out and decided he wouldn't bother changing anywhere but in that room, not caring if Amelia was there because he just didn't. It turned out, Amelia didn't care either. Amelia pulled back the covers and just laid down in bed, snuggling into her own pillow, letting her eyes drift shut for a moment. Owen was mesmerized at the mere sight of her. She kept switching from distressed, to comfortable, to fidgety, to sleepy and he was supposed to be accustomed to this degree of unpredictability, but it was becoming a little disorienting as time passed. When he was finished getting into her clothes – formerly his clothes – he proceeded with carefully and neatly folding his clothes from today, laying them gently on a chair, unlike Amelia that had just tossed her sweater and jeans somewhere in a corner of her room.

He stood for a second there, missing the easiness of being in his own house and staring at his own bed, but it made it incredibly obvious why Amelia had requested they stay here tonight. Amelia in the midst of it all looked asleep, he wasn't sure, but she hadn't moved a muscle in a few minutes. As gently as humanly possible for someone his size, he pulled back the comforter and got in bed, laying down opposite her. Owen felt his cheeks stretch with a huge smile as he took her in, messy hair and a clean face. Her eyes looked a little bluer without make up and her hair – after a good brushing – looked a little wilder than usual. It was nothing, though, compared to how it got when she let it air dry, like that time in the trailer he thought it was a good idea to shower together and they ended up being five hours late to work. They should sequence it, he thought, the Shepherd DNA. There had to be something special about it, especially the hair and the eyes. Either that or he and Amelia would have to have kids until they would produce one who resembled her enough – to his standard of course. To achieve perfection he'd like him or her to also have her cheeks and cheekbones and maybe even her mouth – but only if it was a boy, he couldn't handle having an exact girl replica of Amelia, he'd never be able to live through her teenage years.

"Are you staring like a creep?" mumbled Amelia into her pillow, not even cracking an eye open.

Owen chuckled, finding the courage to grab her from her back and roughly pull her into his chest. "So what if I was?"

Amelia nuzzled his neck, balling her hands in the front of the t-shirt he was wearing, that same t-shirt that had a very complicated ownership. She'd swiped it last year and never even bothered to let him know she even had it, but now that he was wearing it, she realized it may very well look better on him than her. The paler color and visible signs of usage since it came to her possession and multiplied tenfold and she hoped he wouldn't notice. It was a t-shirt she might have worn every night after he left for Iraq. "Then you're a creep."

"Do you have a habit of letting creeps in your bed, Doctor Shepherd?" he asked, voice muffled by her hair.

Amelia chuckled against the skin of his neck, sending shivers all over his body, making the delicate skin there blush a deep crimson. "It seems I do."

Owen ruffled her hair, knowing how much it annoyed her and then tightened his hold on her. At night it was usually this nice, quiet and calm. It wasn't news, but in their turbulent lives he'd recently learned to fully appreciate and take advantage of these rare, volatile moments between them. The main reason was that he was able to forget why they were here or how, because they were, simple as it sounded. She was there in his arms, not running, not crying. And it was nice. Whenever he'd allow himself to think it through, Owen realized all it would take was one of them to grow a pair and then grow up, but neither was really willing to be that vulnerable, not even with the other, not even knowing what they did. Owen let his arm travel from her shoulder to her hip, he'd never venture further down, running over curves and planes, going over and over again. The action seemed to soothe them both. The repetitive, continuous, relentless movement was slowly lulling him to sleep, eyes fluttering close now and again, feeling her breath against his neck. What Owen had failed to notice was how her hands were still holding his - her t-shirt in a death grip that not even cuddles had managed to loosen.

He turned his head, he needed to look at her, but from their position it was nearly impossible. His hands tightened against her back and his face tilted some, until his mouth was right by her temple. "Do you want to tell me what happened today?"

Amelia curled into herself and therefore slightly away from him. "Nothing happened today."

Hearing the lie as clear as the words she'd spoken Owen found new resolve not to drop this. "You don't have to tell me, but it's bothering you. I can tell."

Groaning at his insistence, Amelia turned in his arms, twisting on herself so that she was laying with her back to his chest, as a clear sign that she had no intention to discuss whatever it was that had her feeling like this with him. It was nor the time or place. These nights were magical because as soon as they slipped into bed they could forget that they were nothing to each other, that they had never spoken about what was between them, that they weren't even an us. Amelia was able to forget that her brother was gone. It just felt good and safe. She didn't want to ruin it.

"I don't want to push, I just… if something is wrong with you, I want you to know you can tell me. I won't judge and maybe – oh, maybe I could even help." Owen started, running his hand absent-mindedly along her other side, while his other hand was on her pillow, playing with her hair. After a beat she hadn't moved or said anything, Owen couldn't find it in him, to just wish her goodnight and let her battle her demons on her own, fully aware that he was pushing her right now. "I'd like it if you told me. I know that's not like you, but, if anything, it usually helps to talk things out. I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're thinking. We haven't… we never really talk, with words, I mean. We've talked a lot lately, but I know we should have serious talks too, if you want, that is. I hope you know that there is no really no one else I…"

As his rambling went on, the hand on her side kept going, if nothing as comfort to him. It started up from her shoulder, slightly pressing down on the protruding bone at the very top, then it went on to her ribs, he could feel every single one through her skin and he'd grown quite fond of the feeling after realizing she wasn't all sickly thin, but rather had just very little fat on her bones. The dip to her waist wasn't anything like the harsh climb to her hip bone, one was smooth and imperceptible, while the other was almost an angle. With every time his hand made it's way down and back up again, her shirt rose a little. Neither had noticed until, on his way to her hip, he felt skin under his fingers. The stifled moan that came out of her mouth was audible from downstairs in the kitchen, luckily they were the only ones there. Owen had half expected her to grab his hand and place it on the shirt or shove it away entirely, she might have scooted away, not letting him touch her anymore, but she didn't do any of those things.

For the first time since they got into bed, she relaxed against him, leaning all her weight on his chest. The words coming out of his mouth died and his hand stilled there. Owen was hesitant to push verbally, much less physically – even though, considering this was Amelia, it might not have been such a bad idea. They were frozen, neither daring to move and possibly ruin this moment. It took maybe a few seconds or maybe even a few minutes, but at a point Amelia just let go, letting her body fall entirely on his, turning her head to look up at him, but ending up with an eyeful of his jaw – they were too close for anything more than that.

Owen, who had kept swiftly caressing her hip, took this as permission to push a little and let his hand wander further down her front, on her stomach. The tips of his fingers were ghosting over her skin, delighting in her muscles contracting whenever their skin touched. He started drawing little circles on her smooth, soft skin, keeping his eyes closed, focusing on her irregular breathing. When, after some time, his hand started inching towards the skin still covered by the shirt, the circles moving upward, her breath hitched. This was the most intimate they had been in over a year. Their make out sessions had often been filled with groping and wandering hands, but this felt like a whole other thing. It was, entirely different. They were laying in bed, not looking at each other and fully clothed, but in some way they had not felt this close to one another since last year.

As time passed, he increased the pressure in the delicate strokes, letting the little circles grow into bigger, bolder ones, and especially extending far up, near her belly button, pushing her shirt as they went. Owen could feel goosebumps come and go on her skin, she'd sometimes lean back into his fingers and some other times she'd flinch away from his touch as if it were electric. He was trying to be cautious, not wanting this to ever end and he had an inkling she was doing exactly the same. Or she was annoyed by this. Amelia hadn't moved since… Owen had no idea of knowing what she was thinking or feeling or wanting. To be honest, Owen had no idea if this was hardcore cuddles between friends that at times liked to make out or if it was the two of them finally reconciling. He knew what he wanted and he couldn't bear to hear her say she didn't want the same. The hand never stopped, but the hand never strayed.

Amelia was laying almost completely still in his arms, barely reacting to his touch, virtually frozen. Owen loved to touch her, loved to hear her breath hitch in her throat and loved to send shivers everywhere in her body, but not if that wasn't what Amelia wanted. Not that she'd stop him, they were friends, maybe friends with benefits, but he couldn't do it if it didn't mean the same to her. That would hurt. Different expectations, different feelings, different stakes. It would just hurt. He'd been hurt by her before and he'd hurt her. It couldn't be like that anymore. As if sensing his inner monolog – something the neuro doc laying right there would tell him was true – his hand stopped in its tracks, splayed on her belly, covering most of it on its own.

The ball was in her court, Owen had not entirely intentionally let her have this. It was a risk, but talking about risks was something that brought them together and if he'd learned something from last year's disaster was that they were both major screw ups who didn't like surprises. What idiots they had been. How different their lives could have been if they were different, if they'd acted different.

Speaking of surprises, this one Owen liked a lot. It was maybe five minutes after his hands had found residence on her warm skin and he'd been so close to calling it a night, when Amelia rolled towards him, laying down on her back. All he felt was movement against him and then he was staring down into her blue eyes, wide and alert. Amelia smiled up at him and shyly bit her bottom lip when relief visibly washed over him. He stared down into her eyes, staring right back into his, the silent communication between them as accurate as always. Her hand then reached across from her side, to cup the back of his neck, scratching lightly at the soft hair there. Owen's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth parted slightly and Amelia decided in an instant to take full advantage. Pulling herself up a bit and holding onto him she crashed her lips on his, relishing in the little jump of surprise he made. The hand that laid on the pillow wrapped immediately under her shoulders, holding her up a little, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

It wasn't any other kiss. It wasn't a porch kiss or an elevator kiss. It was nothing like their more heartfelt kisses from last year either. It was new and tentative and exciting and safe. It was the kind of kiss that felt like they shared millions like this one before, yet it still felt like the very first one. In a way maybe it even was. Amelia's strong hold on his neck made Owen tighten his own around her, his hand on her stomach stirred back to life, snaking under the t-shirt without a second thought. As it brushed her ribs, Amelia broke the kiss, softly moaning beside his ear. Owen took the opportunity to kiss down her lips, to her jaw and all the way down her neck to her pulse point. Owen found he was coming up for air a lot more frequently and soon realized why. In the midst of their tangled bodies, her other hand had reached down his stomach slipping under his shirt. His belly tightened deep inside.

In a blurry of movement, Amelia hooked a leg over his hip and rolled them over, sitting up on him. Her hands were grazing the fair skin between the elastic band of his pants and his shirt. Her hands inched to his hips as she noticed his abs twitched every time she moves with growing intensity. As he regained some control from the sudden move, his own hands ran up her thighs to stop right below her hips, thumbs digging into her flesh, eyes stuck on hers. The move had been bold and he should have expected it from her, even if a little tamer than she used to be, he'd had the chance to witness her confidence in bed, and saying it was enticing was not even close to describing it. Yet, she was now shy and hesitant and the contrast between these two sides of her was driving him mad. Also, contributing to that was the fact that she was fidgeting while sitting right on him, but there was no delicate way to tell her that and Owen didn't want to ruin the mood saying something a bit too forward.

Then she did it. Her hands flew to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Owen's hands flew to cover hers just in time, stopping her. The hurt and confused look she shot him, made him want to let her take it off, also because he wanted her to take it off, but not without making sure they were on the same page. His thumbs caressed the backs of her hands reassuringly and he smiled up at her, but her eyes were not on his anymore, for whatever reason, focusing on their hands. "Wait, wait. Amelia." He tugged on her hand gently. "Please, can you look at me. I don't want this to be… a mistake."

The hurt look in her eyes made him wish the bed would swallow him whole, but with the decreased blood and oxygen to his brain, that was all he could manage. "This can't be a one night thing and I need to know that… I want that too."

"What?"

"This." He took their hands and held them up between them. "It can't be just for comfort or… I don't know. We can't be friends with benefits, it's all or nothing, so you sure you want it?"

Amelia's face softened, for a moment there it lost all color. In a way she knew Owen was a man and she could sleep fully clothed in his bed for so long until the clothes would come off, but he never pushed and in time she'd started wondering if he was interested in that at all. He'd seen it all before, but he didn't show any sign of wanting it. Now, however, the signs were pretty evident, but he still seems reluctant. She got it, though. Amelia knew what he meant. Amelia felt exactly the same way. She gave him a big, broad smile and swiftly freed her hands, pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it behind her. She wasn't wearing anything underneath and when her eyes made their way to his, Amelia found him staring, openly and unashamedly. She was, after all, his.

Amelia's hands covered Owen's, unintentionally getting his attention and he sat up, hugging her to him, nuzzling her face until he found her lips with his own. Their hands roamed and rubbed and pulled everywhere, while the kiss become more and more needy. The implications of their words and their actions had yet to dawn on them, which meant they could enjoy this moment fully. Amelia's hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his chest, mouths parting as she took it off him entirely. "We should have one of those talks, you know, with words." She panted. "But not this one."

His hands were on her back and hers were in his hair. It was as if it was yesterday that Owen had accidentally walked in on the McDreamys breakfast time to give her her phone back. That morning had been glorious, the early wake up call – before sunrise – had initially irritated Amelia beyond limits, but as it went on she decided she wouldn't mind waking up that early for the rest of her life, if she'd get to spend two hours in bed with a naked army major and another hour in a teeny tiny shower with him. As their chests pressed together they could feel each others heartbeat, thumping against the other, in perfect, racing sync. It was wild, but it felt normal, normalcy like this was toxic. As the air became scarce the world slowly disappeared and everything else with it. That was the beauty of this moment. They were in fact frozen in time, except they'd still be here when time started up again.

Craving oxygen, Owen pulled back a little, cupping her face in one hand, melting as she leaned into his touch, with her eyes still closed and red, swollen lips, parted. He wanted every single day to be like this, to feel like this and maybe now it would. Now he knew that's what she wanted as well. Owen leaned in and kissed her nose, effectively waking her from the haze of a good kiss and looked into her eyes, which had become so dark, nearly black. He rolled them over on their sides and then pulled her up to sit next to him. Amelia, still not completely in touch with reality, was letting him move her and maneuver her to his will. Owen pushed her legs off the side of the bed and off it, while he sat at in the spot she'd just vacated, pulling her precariously standing form right between his legs. He looked up at her and she smiled down, one of her hands tangling into his hair, pulling his head closer to her body.

Without breaking eye contact, Owen's hands grabbed her pants at her knee and pulled down, excruciatingly slowly, dragging the waist lower and lower on her hips. The hand in his hair grabbed the fair lock painfully as – still looking into her eyes – he places a kiss on the very top of her hip bone. As he exposed more and more skin, the trail of kisses went on down to where hip and leg met – Owen noted appreciatively she'd gone without underwear tonight as well, he'd known about the trend, but the last few times they were together like this, he had not really been making inventory of her clothing. They were soft butterflies kisses, warming up a spot to then let the cold freezing Seattle air causing all kinds of reactions as hot met cold on her sensitive skin. When he reached that particular spot, one they both knew had one of the highest concentration of nerve endings of the entire body, exactly that line where her torso ended and leg begun, that Amelia bent over him, her legs buckling under her.

Owen chuckled and Amelia wanted to hit him upside the head, but she couldn't coordinate her muscles to do much more than half stand, right in his arms. When he felt her stable enough, Owen let go, starting the same process on the other side, feeling her skin boiling hot. Before he got to that same spot, something he could tell Amelia was eagerly anticipating, he gave a hard pull on the pants, which pooled at her ankles in a matter of seconds. In a rush he grabbed her, hands at her waist, and slid back in the bed dragging her along with him, causing squeals to come out of her mouth. It sounded exactly when he played planes with Bailey and made him fly. As their eyes met, they burst out laughing – she must have made the connection as well. They were laying on his side, bodies almost perfectly matched if not for the height difference, in fact, while their hips were aligned to the millimeter, her head lay on his chest and her knees ended up a bit above his.

Once Amelia recovered from the laughing fit, she took a moment to lay on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It was something she did most nights, through two layers of clothes and feeling like every time could very well be the last. This was better, definitely better. Pulling herself up slightly she gently rolled them over, keeping a tight hold on him, basically forcing him to rest all his weight on her. Barely holding himself up on his elbows, Owen looked at Amelia, feeling things he'd never thought he'd get to feel again and brushed her hair out of her face, stroking the side of her face on the way back to the pillow. Amelia's hands started rubbing his shoulders, going further down, following the hard ripples of his dorsal muscles, flexing with her every touch. Without much going around, her hands went right for his pants pulling them down without all the delicacy he'd used with hers.

Owen just looked at her and let her do, in no rush to fight her for control. Neither was in any rush to control, knowing they were working for the same thing, deciding to team up rather than fight each other. Owen thought, that was what it must feel like to have that kind of understanding with another person, that synergy you read about in books and see in movies. He'd been able to understand Cristina more than most people, but they never been on the same wave length like that. This was mind blowing. It felt empowering, like finally solving one of life's riddles. As most of life's riddles, it didn't take any thought or any action, it just came by itself in due time. It wasn't until his brain went blank when her hands reached inside his pants, that the fact that he hadn't had sex with anyone in over a year hit him. That was bad. There wasn't going to be any poetry in the two minutes this was going to last, if that.

There hadn't been anyone since her and it just felt right. Like it never stopped, like last years hadn't happened. He wondered then if she had been with anyone during that time. Something he'd never ask and never really wanted to know, but since he'd come back he'd just assumed she hadn't. Owen had no reason to be mad, they weren't together and he wasn't even in the continent, she was more than allowed to find someone else to give her what her couldn't. He had no right to be mad, but the mere thought sent dread through all his body. He assumed she hadn't and that meant this would last enough for them both.

His assumption, in the end, – he assumed – was right, as her hand pressed on his hip to keep him still, giving them both time to readjust to each other. Owen would have mused longer on the feeling of being the only one in her life in over a year, but as that was true, the feeling itself shut off his brain entirely. Without jostling their bodies around too much, he kissed her, carving all the feelings and sensations into his brain, committing it to memory forever.

It wasn't sex, that much they knew. Amelia wondered if this was making love. She hated the term, it was so mundane, so cliché, overused in books and movies so much that it'd lost its meaning along the way. This was more and she didn't want it to have a name, she didn't want to label it, this way it was unique. It felt like that hug on her bed, about a week before, but so much bigger than that. All those times they slept together last year were nothing compared to now, so now would be what this was. Just a moment in time.

As moments do it ended, it transformed, it left space to another moment.

It was nearing midnight when the front door opened again, revealing three sleepy children carried by Meredith, Maggie and Alex, who'd offered a hand on the way home. While Alex and Maggie stopped in the kitchen to feed Bailey, who'd voiced his hunger as soon as he'd opened his eyes, three steps into the house, and warm Ellie's midnight snack, Meredith made her way up the stairs with Zola. Once the kids were all fed and sleepy again Alex and Maggie brought them up to their beds, feeling exhaustion as the little ones settled in. Maggie was out in a flash, leaving Meredith's room only seconds after she'd walked in, thankful the baby was such a good sleeper, intent on doing the same she headed to her room. On her way there she found Meredith standing outside Amelia's room. There was light coming out of it and Maggie arched her eyebrows in surprise, Amelia hadn't been home in days. Fearing another fight or stare down or anything that would disturb the unusual quiet in the house she stopped at her door noticing Meredith's still and somewhat unfocused eyes.

As she peeked inside she had to blink a few times before processing. Clothes were scattered on the floor and the blankets and comforter where either kicked at the foot of the bed or keeping company to the clothes on the cold hard ground. On the bed, illuminated by one of the bedside table lamps were Owen and Amelia, naked and wrapped around each other. Amelia was hugging a pillow to her, while Owen was hugging Amelia to him. It wasn't dirty or graphic or disgusting. It was hypnotizing. Nothing could be seen other than the fact that they were wearing nothing, Owen's arm over her waist blocking Amelia's body almost entirely. They looked happy, light, comfortable, at peace. It made jealousy rise angrily inside Maggie. In that precise moment

Alex emerged from the kids' room, leaving the door ajar. He too found Meredith and Maggie standing over there, ever curious even if extremely tired and about forty minutes away from his bed, he went to stand there next to them. "Wow."

"Couldn't they have… shut the door?" she spat in a half-convinced voice, walking the three remaining steps to her room and locking herself in.

"What's her problem?" Alex frowned, turning over to look at Meredith, who still hadn't move an inch since he got there. "What's your problem?"

Meredith just shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek, looking up at her friend. "Nothing, I just miss this."


End file.
